


if a great wave shall fall

by alljustrunaways



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 22:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16669105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alljustrunaways/pseuds/alljustrunaways
Summary: “Amy, sorry to wake you,” Terry says quickly. “There’s an active shooter at the grocery store on St Mark’s...Jake responded to it."





	if a great wave shall fall

**Author's Note:**

> sup my dudes who is ready to cry hahahahhah i tried to write a fluffy drabble and this is what i ended up with. ok  
> anyways this is set maybe 2 years after their wedding (i kinda want them to wait to have kids but also kind of just want them now u know) and for the sake of the story amy is now sergeant of the detective squad, terry's captain and holt's commissioner (none of this is super relevant to the plot)  
> so yeah enjoy the angst!!  
> title from wherever you will go - the calling (but the charlene soraia version is better)

_Jake and Amy’s apartment_

_12:02 A.M._

 

Amy jolts awake to the found of her phone ringing. Not her morning alarms, not her eight month old baby, but the distinct sound of the ringtone reserved for one person only - her boss, Captain Terry Jeffords.

 

She reaches across the bed, the other side still empty, to grab her phone. “Hi, Captain, how can I...” She pauses as she glances over at her alarm clock. She’s not on call to come into work. There is no logical, work-related reason for her captain to be calling at this hour. “Wait, Terry, why are you calling me after midnight?”

 

“Amy, sorry to wake you,” Terry says quickly. “There’s an active shooter at the grocery store on St Mark’s...Jake responded to it."

 

After she hears her husband’s name, her world goes completely still for a few seconds. It’s long enough that she doesn’t fully absorb the rest of Terry’s words.

 

“He...he what?”

 

“He’s not by himself in there,” she hears him repeat, a bit slower and more gently. “He’s got a good team, all highly trained in situations like this. But we don’t have any updates just yet.”

 

As Amy’s brain goes into panic mode, she closes her eyes tightly, trying to visualize how to deal with this particular issue. _It’s an emergency. Who do I call in an emergency? Jake. Who do I call if Jake_ is _the emergency?_

 

“I’m coming to the precinct,” Amy says, quiet but firm. “I just need to call my brother to come watch Abby.”

 

“Of course, Amy. I’ll call if I hear anything before you get here.”

 

She thanks him and ends the call, instantly going into her emergency contacts and selecting the second name on the list.

 

“Amy, what the-it’s after midnight-“

 

Her brother, Nic, was the obvious choice when planning for an emergency such as this one. The rest of the squad were out of the question, as they could easily be involved in whatever reason Jake is unavailable. Karen lives twenty minutes away and her parents are in New Jersey, but Nic is only a five minute drive from them, making him the perfect candidate to watch Abigail. Of course, she hoped she would never have to actually call him - so much so that she never exactly told him he was their emergency go-to.

 

“Jake responded to an active shooting.” Her voice is still steady. She’s trained to deal with crises. “I need to go to the precinct. Can you please-“

 

“Oh god, Amy, I-I’ll be right there.”

 

The line goes dead, and Amy only allows herself a moment to try to remember how to breathe before she jumps into action.

 

She goes through the motions of packing an emergency bag, rummaging through the things in their bedroom: anxiety medication, phone chargers, badge and gun...

 

As she grabs the badge from her bedside table, her eye catches the framed photo right beside it, a moment captured by Gina’s phone of their first kiss as husband and wife. It wasn’t the professional photograph she had planned, but it’s her favourite picture ever taken of her and Jake.

 

Jake. Her husband. The father of her child.

 

It suddenly clicks that he’s actually in real, mortal danger. This isn’t just a worst case scenario, it’s _the_ worst case scenario. The absolute worst thing that could possibly happen is one bullet away from becoming reality.

 

She slowly sinks down until she’s on the floor, her back against the side of their bed as the tears begin to flow. She doesn’t have time to break down, she knows that. She’s a wife, mother and sergeant - not one of those roles does she take lightly, not one leaves room for her to be weak. She’s supposed to be strong.

 

The opening of her bedroom door brings her back to reality, her head jolting up from where it was positioned in her hands to see her brother. His brows are furrowed with deep concern and his sweatpants and messy hair indicate that he got here as fast as is humanly possible.

 

“That was really fast,” she remarks, her voice trembling more than she thought it would as hot tears continue to stream down her face.

 

“I might have broken a few traffic laws. You can get me out of a ticket, right?” Nic smirks slightly at her horrified look. The Santiagos do not break traffic laws. “Kidding.”

 

Her older brother plops down on the floor next to her, putting a hand on her knee as she moves to get up.

 

“I need to go-“

 

“You need to breathe for a second before you operate a vehicle, Amy.”

 

She shakes her head, aggressively wiping away her tears. “I need to be there. I need to figure out what’s happening and - and I need to be a good wife and sergeant and mother and - and I need to buy more mushy peas in the morning because it’s all Abby will eat this week and now I have to go-“

 

“Amy, breathe.” Nic shifts over so he’s facing her, forcing her to look him in the eye. “You are strong. That’s never in question, okay? The fact that you’re breaking down right now does not make you weak, it makes you a normal person who’s going through something totally terrifying.”

 

She nods, letting a small sob escape her and leaning back against her soft comforter.

 

“I didn’t kiss him,” she says suddenly. “I…I always do, but I had just gotten Abby down for a nap and I was in the shower when he left.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nic says comfortingly. “You’ll get to kiss him.”

 

“He only took a night shift because he’s been trying to get more overtime ever since we found out I was pregnant. I told him he doesn’t have to, but he wanted to start a college fund for Abby.” Amy runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “He spent all his money on massage chairs and take out when I met him, and now he’s…he’s such a good dad. I can’t do this without him, I can’t come home to her alone.”

 

“You won’t. Jake’s tough and he’s a good cop. He’s gonna be fine.”

 

For the first time in a life of relentless teasing and arguments, she really hopes her brother is right.

 

_99th Precinct_

_12:28 A.M._

 

Nobody says a word when Amy comes running off the elevator wearing leggings and an NYPD sweater smelling faintly of cologne that is noticeably to big to be hers. Terry, Rosa, Charles and Gina are gathered in a loose circle of chairs outside Gina’s former desk in front of Captain Holt’s former office that is now Terry’s. She has no idea how everyone got here so quickly, but the many cups of coffee and the bags under her friends’ eyes indicate that they all rushed to the precinct as quickly as she did without the added step of having to find someone to watch their children. There’s just about nothing that this group of people wouldn’t do for Jake Peralta, she realizes.

 

Amidst the silence, everyone rises from their seats and within seconds she’s being pulled into a hug by Charles.

 

“He’ll be okay, Amy. It’s Jake, he has to be.”

 

Her husband’s best friend’s words resonate with her - Jake is _always_ okay. He’s survived death threats and prison and countless dangerous operations just like this one. He hasn’t been taken from them yet, she hopes with all of her heart that he won’t be taken from them tonight. She hugs him back briefly and then pulls away to face her captain.

 

“Have you heard anything?”

 

Terry gives a solemn shake of his head. “Sorry, Amy, I still don’t know much. Holt said he’ll do everything he can to get an update, but there’s only so much even the commissioner can do in situations like this.”

 

She sits in the chair next to Gina, the extra seat obviously meant for her, trying not to glance just to her left at the pair of desks where she spent years stealing glances at the guy that she had a minor crush on (okay, it was pretty major by the time she admitted it to herself and full-blown obsession by the time she told him).

 

She keeps her phone in her hand and the volume on high in case Jake texts that it’s over or Holt provides an update to her directly. Her heart begins to ache a little more than it has been this whole time as the elevator doors open again and the commissioner of the NYPD himself steps out. Despite the considerable relationship he has with his old detective squad, he certainly isn’t obligated to give them an update in person. Unless it’s a bad one. She isn’t going to wait to find out.

 

“Have you heard from Jake?” she explains in a tone that lacks politeness and professionalism, but Holt does not seem to mind. His face softens when he sees Amy in her current state.

 

“As of right now there are two civilians wounded, no deaths and no officers injured.” Relief washes through her instantly and she nearly falls back into Gina, who keeps her upright with a hand on her shoulder. “Unfortunately the shooter has not been taken into custody yet, so Jake and the others are still there. It is unclear at this time when they will be out.”

 

The thought of waiting any longer without the certainty that he’s safe makes her feel nauseous, but Captain Holt - _Commissioner_ Holt, but he’ll always be her captain - sits next to her and says “Peralta will be alright. I believe that his tendencies to make rash decisions without proper judgement have declined significantly through your relationship.” It eases her mind for a moment.

 

 

_99th Precinct_

_1:22 A.M._

 

The precinct is colder at night. It always has been, and Amy’s always noticed it. She worked late often enough to realize the change in temperature, but it wasn’t until they were assigned to the night shift by the ridiculous Captain Stentley that she came to truly loathe how cold it got.

 

The moment she steps into the break room tonight and a chill goes up her spine, she feels a big wave of déjà vu hit, almost as if it’s a vision from her past.

 

_“Hey, whatcha doing in here?”_

 

_She looks up from her spot on the couch, her face buried in a case file. Despite her fatigue and the general disheartening effect of the night shift, she’s still working as hard as she always does. It eases her heart and mind a little to see her boyfriend limping through the doorway with his cane, grinning at her. It’s his first week back at work in months, and she missed seeing him across the desk from her more than she realized._

 

_“It’s a couple degrees warmer in here than the bullpen,” she answers, shifting over on the couch so he can join her._

 

_“Yeah, it is actually a lot colder in here at night than I remembered it,” Jake agrees, plopping down next to her with a thud. “Wait, why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”_

 

_“None of my blazers really match this blouse, so-“_

 

_Jake’s already shrugging off his leather jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders and then pulling her into his side._

 

_“Jake, we’re at work...” she trails off, looking up through the break room window. The majority of their colleagues are nearly asleep at their desks or currently absent. She knows for a fact that Captain Holt just took his break, so he won’t be walking in any time soon._

 

_She doesn’t think anyone would really say anything, anyways. She’s sure they all noticed how little she smiled or laughed or showed enthusiasm of any kind over the six months he was in Florida, how she would decline invitations to hang out after work or quietly excuse herself when someone mentioned him._

 

 _“You’re so warm,” she says fondly, her face squished against his chest. She allows her eyes to flutter closed, immersed in his embrace. God, she missed him_ so _much._

 

_“And you’re freezing,” he says with a kiss to the top of her head._

 

_Feeling completely relaxed for the first time that night, she begins to fantasize about the comfort of her own home - or his, she doesn’t really care at this point - awaiting her when their shift is done in just two short hours. “We should definitely take a long, hot shower as soon as we get home.”_

 

_His eyes widen. “Ames, that is hardly appropriate conversation for the workplace.”_

 

_“Oh, yes, there’s nothing sexier than helping my boyfriend bathe because he has a bullet wound in his leg-“_

 

_“And who inflicted that wound upon me?”_

 

_“I saved your life!”_

 

_They’re both laughing at this point, and she can feel his chest rising and falling in sync with his laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls._

 

Now, the room is painfully quiet as Rosa leads her to a chair, urging her to sit down and placing a mug in front of her. She appreciates the gesture, but her nerves certainly cannot be tamed by a cup of herbal tea.

 

“Thanks, Rosa, but-“

 

“It’s coffee,” Rosa interrupts her. “I know Terry said to give you chamomile tea to relax you or whatever, but we both know it’s gonna be a long night.”

 

Amy nods gratefully, taking a long sip of the hot, bitter drink.

 

“Remember the Brooklyn Heights shooting a few years ago?” Rosa’s voice cuts through the silence.

 

She’s taken aback by the question, nodding slowly. Of course she remembers it - the hours Rosa’s life was up in the air were some of the scariest of her life (until today, that is).

 

“Did Jake ever tell you he almost came to help me even though he was ordered not to?”

 

Amy’s heart clenches in her chest, trying to recall the events of that day after Rosa found her drenched in toilet water. She remembers going home, taking a shower, going over some wedding plans with Kylie over the phone, falling asleep early with Jake beside her. They barely talked about the shooting at all, let alone the fact that he almost _went_.

 

“No,” Amy says quietly. “No, he never told me.”

 

She can’t say she’s surprised, but it still hurts her to think that she could’ve lost him weeks before their wedding. She could’ve never been married to him.

 

“We went to Shaw’s that night and he told me what happened,” Rosa continues. “I think I was the only one that ever found out other than Holt. But you know what he said when I asked why he came to his senses?” Amy shakes her head, still looking at Rosa with watery eyes. “You, Amy. He said he couldn’t handle the thought of leaving you alone.”

 

She promised herself she wouldn’t cry again, at least until she gets to hold him and inevitably breaks down in his arms (she has to keep telling herself that that moment will come) but Rosa’s revelation completely unravels her.

 

Rosa’s hand on her own brings her some comfort, the act of affection both rare and extremely appreciated.

 

“He wants to come home to you. And Jake’s stubborn as hell when he wants to be.”

 

Amy smiles fondly, nodding in agreement. It’s one of the things she loves and occasionally disdains.

 

“Yeah, he really is.”

 

_24-Hour Grocery Store_

_3:14 A.M._

 

As soon as they get the call that the shooter’s been taken into custody, the Nine-Nine rushes to the scene of the shooting. Amy rides in the passenger seat of Terry’s car, her eyes shut tightly so more tears don’t escape as the words she heard through the speaker phone in the captain’s office replay in her brain.

 

_Several officers down. Names and severity of injuries still unclear._

 

There were less than ten officers present, as far as she knows, which means there’s a significant statistical possibility that Jake is one of the several.

 

There are ambulances and squad cars surrounding the store, the flashing lights making Amy feel more disoriented as she jumps out of the car the moment they’ve parked.

 

Immediately, she spots a familiar face, Detective Ross Thompson from their neighbouring precinct, exiting the building. He’s uninjured, as far as she can tell, which first relieves her and then makes the calculation in her brain of the likelihood that Jake is one of the injured shift further out of her favour.

 

“Thompson!”

 

The way that the man’s face pales with fear when he sees her in a way that it shouldn’t at the sight of a superior officer with whom he has a pretty good professional relationship, but might at the sight of a dead man’s wife.

 

“Sergeant,” he says quietly. “Peralta-he, uh-“

 

A quick glance over his shoulder renders the rest of Thompson’s sentence obsolete. Nothing has ever shaken Amy Santiago quite as much as the sight of her husband on a stretcher, blood covering so much of him that it’s impossible to tell where he’s been shot.

 

 _Jake_. She isn’t sure if she actually shouts his name or if it’s just echoing in her head the way that it has for the better part of ten years, but she manages to push past the crowd of cops and paramedics until she’s as close to him as possible.

 

“Jake,” she breathes, her hand clutching his where it rests limply at his side. He’s still wearing his kevlar vest, which has a mark from a bullet that surely would’ve penetrated his heart without it - she’s never been more grateful for an article of clothing. She’s close enough now to see the wound in his shoulder, where the paramedics seem to have finally stopped the blood - which is _everywhere_ _-_ from flowing. His name comes out like a whimper as she lets out the tears she was holding back.

 

“Ames?” His voice is so weak and small compared to the volume she’s used to. She squeezes his hand a little tighter as he looks up at her with wide eyes. She’s pretty sure that the look of fear on his face mirrors hers.

 

“Excuse me, miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step back so we can move him to the ambulance.”

 

Amy steps away reluctantly, only enough that the man and woman in paramedic uniforms can move the stretcher into the back of the vehicle. Jake’s groan of pain as she steps away makes her sob harder.

 

“Is he going to be okay?” she chokes out, following them to the ambulance parked just a few feet away.

 

“He’s lost a lot of blood, but we’re going to do everything we can to make sure he pulls through,” the male paramedic, a twenty-something with dark hair and bright blue eyes, informs her. “Are you his wife?” Amy nods. “You can ride in the ambulance with him.”

 

She climbs up into the back of the ambulance behind the paramedics, sitting as close to Jake as she can while the paramedics work around them, cleaning some of the blood off his chest.

 

“Why’re you crying, babe?” Jake’s eyes are barely open, his only real awareness seeming to be the fact that she’s there and she’s sobbing violently while she clutches his hand so tightly that both of their fingers are white.

 

She kisses the back of his hand a few times, comforted by the fact that his skin is still as warm as it always is. “I can’t lose you.”

 

“Not gonna…” he struggles to get the words out, his breathing laboured. “Not gonna leave you. Promise.”

 

He moves their joined hands almost like a handshake, a symbolic agreement that he will never leave her. She feels his grip on her loosen as he drifts off, and she holds on to both his hand and the vow that he’s just made to her. He’s not leaving her, definitely not tonight.

 

“I love you so much,” she whispers for no one to hear.

 

_Brooklyn Methodist Hospital_

_7:21 A.M._

 

**_Mom_ **

_Just woke up to voicemail from Nic. Our prayers are with Jake. Call if you need anything, mija, we love you both very much. Xo Mom and Dad_

 

**_Nic Santiago_ **

_Abby’s up and just had breakfast. All good here. Has Jake woken up yet?_

 

**_Charles Boyle_ **

_Just got home. Don’t forget to text me when Jake wakes up and every hour after that with an update :)_

 

**_Raymond Holt_ **

_Dear Sergeant Santiago,_

_Captain Jeffords has updated me on Jake’s condition. I will visit later today after you have both had adequate time to rest._

_Sincerely,_

_Raymond Holt_

 

**_Kylie_ **

_Your brother texted me. Is Jake okay?? Do you need anything?_

 

**_Gina Linetti_ **

_you were passed out during my turn to visit, plz tell jake he’s not getting out of the $10 he owes me for buying pizza in ninth grade that easily. and ily both i guess_

 

**_Karen Peralta_ **

_Just got your texts. I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can - just have to find someone to cover me at work today. Give Jake a big hug from me. Sending you all my love._

 

**_Rosa Diaz_ **

_Say hey to Jake for me when he wakes up. Don’t tell him any of the lame stuff I said (yes, that is a threat)_

 

**_Terry Jeffords_ **

_Thinking of you guys. Just got home to Sharon and the girls. Take all the time off you need while Jake recovers._

 

Amy wakes to an onslaught of text messages from her friends and family, her eyes adjusting to the harsh hospital lighting and the brightness of her phone screen. She realizes she’s only been asleep for about an hour, but it’s more than she thought she would be able to get in the uncomfortable chair next to Jake’s bed.

 

She glances over at her sleeping husband. If it weren’t for the sling keeping his fractured scapula immobile, he would be indistinguishable from the man she wakes up next to every single day.

 

Against her better judgement, knowing that she needs to let him sleep, she runs her hand through his hair. She feels a little guilty when his eyes flicker open, but it vanishes when he smiles at her. Her heart feels like it’s going to explode. She loves him _so_ much.

 

“Hey, Ames” he says. His voice is hoarser than normal and still her favourite sound in the world.

 

“Hi, baby,” she says in a soothing voice, moving to sit on the bed in the space next to him. While one hand continues to stroke his soft curls, the other grabs his where it rests on his stomach. “How are you feeling?”

 

“I…can’t feel much,” he says, confirming for her that the drugs she approved that they give him are working. “Babe, where’s Abby?”

 

“She’s at home with Nic. He came over to watch her last night when I got the call.” Her voice breaks a little at the end of the sentence. She thinks it goes unnoticed until she feels his hand squeeze hers tighter.

 

“Nic’s watching her?”

 

Amy chuckles slightly. Apparently, Jake does not try as hard to hide the fact that Nic’s not exactly his favourite of her brothers when he’s on morphine.

 

“He’s a doctor, Jake. He’s capable of watching our daughter.”

 

“He’s also capable of judging my every move and acting like he knows everything.”

 

“To be fair, he probably does know a _bit_ more about the effects that pizza bagels have on your health-“

 

“Well, I know more…laws,” Jake says with a huff, frowning. He looks like a five-year old that just got told it’s time for bed, and he’s completely adorable and _she loves him so much_.

 

“I bet you do,” she says warmly.

 

“I’m sorry I scared you. I tried to be careful for you guys.”

 

After Jake was rushed into surgery and she was reunited with the squad in the waiting room, Thompson filled her in on what happened. Jake had taken two bullets intended for a twelve year old boy, only one of them actually penetrating his flesh. It was the kind of decision that they’re often faced with in this job but never really prepared to make. As much as she hates the choice he made, she knows it was the right one and the same one she would’ve made.

 

“It’s okay, Jake,” she murmurs. They’ll talk about it more later, when the shock and the drugs and the initial terror have worn off. She leans down to kiss his lips gently. He kisses her back, his hand moving from hers to weakly cup her face. She pulls away and rests her forehead against his, her eyes still shut. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you too,” he says with a quick kiss to her cheek. “’M sleepy.”

 

She pulls away as he closes his eyes, seconds away from drifting back into a deep sleep.

 

“Yeah, you should get some rest.”

 

“Need you,” he murmurs softly, but its still laced with urgency.

 

“I’m right here, honey,” she assures him. “I’m not leaving.”

 

He shakes his head, unsatisfied. “Need you here.” Jake shifts over in the bed to offer her more space, extending his uninjured arm so she can curl up with him.

 

“I shouldn’t…” she starts to say, but quickly decides that cuddling with her husband right now is a million times more important than some hospital rule.

 

She, very cautiously, climbs into the bed with him and melts into his side, her arm hugging his stomach. Her head tucks under his chin.

 

“I love you,” she says once again. “Forever.”

 

“I know, that’s why we got married.”

 

“Jake, please just let me be emotional for two seconds. My husband just got shot, it’s been a bit of a rough night for me.”

 

“Really? He sounds like a badass.”

 

Amy rolls her eyes, smiling against his chest at the sheer fact that she still gets to do that. “You’re such an idiot.”

 

He holds her closer, his cheek resting comfortably on the top of her head.

 

“I love you too, Ames.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this and justifying me typing my many feelings about these dorks  
> tumblr - peraltasames (taking fic requests)  
> pls comment thoughts :)


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